Carson Mccullers

All men are lonely. But sometimes it seems to me that we Americans are the loneliest of all. Our hunger for foreign places and new ways has been with us almost like a national disease. Our literature is stamped with a quality of longing and unrest, and ou

While time, the endless idiot, runs screaming round the world.

There's nothing that makes you so aware of the improvisation of human existence as a song unfinished. Or an old address book.